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Ghost with a grin outside a skin house Set in the middle of a forty acre marsh Wrapped in moisture, growing, living things All around the dead arms, dead arms of spring It was my stab at faith, a losing one Derailing any one I had You take my hand and threw me in the Grave, grave, grave, grave, yeah Now hold your throat The air's a little worse than last week It's little bit warmer than last week It's not like you weren't informed You're enlightened now It makes no difference anyway We're all on the same list of names Black tar running from your mouth Engine exhaust smoking out your ears Yellow nails and hair like Twine, twine, twine, twine, yeah Slow fuel on your side, sharp tip Running water black as night SongtexteI'm not sure if you're really that informed You're like a small bird needing to be fed It's probably something you won't take well Loosening every state Trying to rearrange The way I want to look Take some out altogether Move a few close together And sing, sing a long It's the death rattle hymn For a place removed from inside It's for the party of sins which always Wins a place down below Car balanced on an old wood chair Barely hanging on And I'll be there Aus Songtexte Mania